


Cats like midnight the best, after all.

by Justanothersinger



Category: End Roll (Video Game)
Genre: Cat Ponchos and general cuteness, Day 6 Spoilers, M/M, Side order of angst, and an excuse to see russell in a cat poncho, annnd thats it, enjoy, its implied at best, its more of a charaacter study, though there is a relationship here, with fries of implied fucked-upness, with that outta the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-22 20:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8299159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justanothersinger/pseuds/Justanothersinger
Summary: '"Russell?" "Don't leave."  "...I won't." Even as he closes his eyes again, feel himself being pulled out of the dream.' Pointless fluff with Russell in a Cat Ear Poncho. Because. I can. Spoilers for Day 06 of the game.





	

Cats like midnight the best, after all.

An End Roll fanfic

 

 

It was quite late in the night when she heard a knock on the door.

 

A knock on the currently open door, because she still hadn't closed up shop yet. She frowns and looks towards the entrance.

 

 

"..."

Okay, yeah, no. Time for bed.

 

 

"Cody." The hallucination says and that's Russell's voice, alright. She looks back towards the doorway again and squints. Considering rubbing her eyes for good measure.

"Russell? Is that you?"

"Yeah."

 

"What is...what are you wearing, wha?" Cody steps forward a bit, staring him down now. The cat costume-poncho? It looked like a poncho-ruffled slightly in the breeze, "Wait, what's wrong? You look kinda pale..."

 

 

'Kinda' was an understatement. Russell's face was drawn, lips pinched and the faintest of shadows under his eyes. Even his body was hunched over, his hands peeking out from under the poncho to clutch at his shirt.

 

"I'm fine." Russell says and he doesn't sound like it, "Have you seen Tabasa?"

"Tabasa? No, not really. He's not at his house?"

"No..."

"...You wanna stay inside and wait for him or something?"

"No, I'll go look for him."

"Wait, wait, you really don't look well! Russell-"

But he's off without another word.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It was quite late at night when he heard a knock at the door.

When was the last time he'd cleaned the pews? Probably yesterday, but it seemed to have amassed twice the amount of dirt he'd cleaned up somehow. That was more than possible and he knew it from experience.

 

He sighs.

 

And then he hears the knock on the door. No...the doorframe? The Church's doors were always open.

He looks up and blinks.

 

"Russell?"

"Mm."

"What are you doing here? And dressed like that...? Are those your pajamas or something?? They seem awfully, uh, cute for..."

"...?"

 

"Cough. Nothing. In any case, has it gotten that late already? Cleaning up seems to take longer and longer each day..."

"I'm looking for Tabasa."

"Tabasa? I haven't seen him. Then again, I hadn't really stepped out the Church today. At the very least, I know he hadn't come here."

 

"I see."

 

"Is something the matter? You seem...wait a second." Dogma walks up to him and kneels, pressing a palm to his forehead. "You're burning up!! Are you unwell?! You should go back to bed."

"But..."

"No buts! You shouldn't push yourself like this, Russell! Whatever it is you must speak about to Tabasa, it can wait."

 

"...No."

"No?"

"No." Russell says stubbornly. And he runs off, without another word, even as Dogma calls after him.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It was quite late when he heard a knock at the door. All but asleep, he blithely calls out, "Who is it?"

"Me."

 

When he hears the voice, he opens his eyes somehow. His neck still hurts a bit from awkwardly dozing off near the table, he lifts his chin from his hand and blinks. Looking towards the doorway.

 

"...Well, this is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"I'm looking for someone."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you supposed to have all the answers?" Kantera says.

 

Tilting his head to the side, he smiles at the Informant.

 

"Well, technically I know where he is." The Informant says. He's still standing at the doorway, still with that strange smirk of his.  
His fingers perched upon the wood of the doorframe, tense.

"Is something wrong?"

Here, he drops the smile entirely. "He's sick. Very sick. Possibly too much so to still be wandering around late at night like this."

"Sick?" Kantera frowns.

"Seems to be something like pneumonia."

 

"I see. Might be something to do with the monsters he's been fighting."

"While he has been quite busy recently, I hardly doubt it."

 

Kantera swears he hears the Informant muttering something like, "They're par for the course for this distasteful dream."

Something like that.

 

"Are you coming or what?" The Informant asks, more to him now.

"I am." Kantera says, "Give me a minute."

"I won't wait for long. Hurry and wake up already."

"Right."

 

Perhaps, half-asleep like this, he catches himself thinking that it was odd hearing such brusque words from Russell's voice and face. Jarring, even.

It doesn't match what he knows of him.

 

Yes.

What he knows.

"I recommend not thinking for too long on a half-asleep brain, Doctor.”

"...Perhaps not."

 

Shame. It was the perfect kind of night for them. 

Dark, a sliver of moonlight. 

 

The perfect kind for a lonely daydream. 

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It was quite late at night, when he decided to set out.

The night was humid, peaceful, quiet. Not a soul in sight; Yumi seems to have finished her rounds and retired to her office.

And yet, sleep still wouldn't come.

 

"...You really can't see much from this side of town." 

 

That was an understatement. From where he was standing, he could see the rough shapes of the foliage of the forest, just barely, a soft mesh of black against the blackest of nights.

And nothing else. The path itself was lost in the mesh of grass, leading to an ever-omnipresent blanket of darkness.

 

"...It's...really unnerving." Tabasa says out loud. He looks around yet again and heaves a deep sigh. He really doesn't feel safe out here.

And at the same time...

 

The wind blows around him, the ice of its breath cutting through his body like knives.

 

"...you."

 

"Yeesh. With an atmosphere like this, it's like a horror movie waiting to happen."  
  
"Found you."

 

"...Huh?!"  
  
He whirls around quickly. A monster--?!

 

He sees something rustle with the breeze, feels eyes watching him.  
  
His fingers twitch, his hand hovers over his gun.

 

A pause.

 

"Who's there?!"  
  
"Tabasa. It's me."  
  
"That's...Russell? Is that you, Russell?"  
  
"Yeah."

 

"Y-you scared me! I thought it was another monster out to attack us!"  
  
"..."

He thinks he sees Russell duck his head, eyes averted. Ashamed? It seemed like it.  
  
Consequently, Tabasa feels a bit of regret for the outburst.

 

"...Sorry. I guess I'm still pretty high-strung from that other huge one earlier."  
  
"Mm."

"I-in any case, what are you doing out here? It's really late out, you should be in bed."

  
"...I don't."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't want to."

 

"Eh? What do you mean?"  
  
Russell steps closer then and Tabasa barely has enough time to register the incredibly odd cat poncho thing fluttering around him before he reaches around the waist and hugs him tightly.

 

"Eh?!"

  
Very tightly. Tabasa panics for about the fraction of a second before he thinks to try to talk Russell out of it and not get his breath squeezed out of him.

  
"R-Russell? Hey, what's wrong?"

  
This close, he can feel the shivers wrackng the boy's body. Worry starts to creep in his mind. "Russell?"

 

"I don't..."

"Russell? Hey..." He hesitates. Just a bit.  
  
  
When Russell grips at his coat even tighter, Tabasa does pat his head. Feels the high temperature in his cheek, his forehead.

  
  
"...! You have a high fever! We should get you to bed."  
  
"No..."  
  
"No? What...?"

 

"I don't want to sleep."  
  
"Eh?"

 

"Oh, I see."  
  
The presence of a new voice. No, the same voice.  
  
Russell hadn't said a word.

 

"Annoyingly, it seems your patterns have changed."  
  
"Patterns?" Tabasa repeats, uneasily.

  
He's still not used to dealing with him. It was kind of odd looking at someone who had the same face and voice as Russell did.  
  
"Of course, I have the same face and voice as Russell."

 

"Eh?"  
  
"And the word 'patterns' refers to your 'migrational patterns'." The Informant says, as he stepped out of the darkness.  
  
"M-migrational patterns?" 

  
"Like a bird, you keep wandering around, aimless, idling, whatever words you want to hear or understand."

...Was it his imagination or was the Informant more irritated than usual?

 

Evidently not, because Russell also shoots a look at the boy.

 

"Were you looking for me?" Tabasa asks, keeping his tone pleasant.

"Of course not. I was looking for Russell." The Informant says, "Naturally, he'd be with you, so I searched for you."  
  
"And why were you looking for him?"

"So many questions. That 'big brother' instinct of yours acting up again?" The Informant snickers, the way he enunciates the two words makes them seem almost sarcastic, "Too bad for you, Russell."

 

"What?"

 

"Even if they are his taste, I don't think the cat ears are helping much." The Informant finishes. He chuckles again at the look Russell is giving him.  
  
"Well, they certainly are mine."

 

"...! Oh...Kantera."

 

"Quite a surprise to find you out here, Tabasa." Kantera says, easily, strolling up to them. He stretches a bit, yawns mid-sentence, "Especially so late. What's wrong? Can't sleep?"  
  
"Something like that." Is Tabasa's answer. He resumes patting Russell's head again when his grip tightens again, "I'm even more surprised you're up."

 

"Like he said", Kantera tilts his head in the Informant's direction, "We were out looking for Russell. Does he not have a fever?"  
  
With some more gentle prying, Tabasa is able to pull Russell off long enough for him to kneel down and press his hand on his forehead.

 

And press his own forehead up against it.

 

"Hrm...you do seem to have a fever. Do you feel like coughing or...eh? Your cheeks are red. Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm okay."

  
"You don't look like it..." Tabasa says, worried. This time, Kantera gives a hearty chuckle.  
  
"The lack of personal space certainly isn't helping matters."

 

"Oh sorry." Tabasa pulls away a bit, "Can you check up on him, Kantera?"  
  
"I will."

Again, Russell stays by his side throughout.

  
Tabasa thinks he feels something warm touch his hand briefly before it pulls away.

  
He thinks, anyway.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

High fever. It wasn't something that a good night's sleep couldn't cure though.  
If they could even get Russell to bed, that is.

The boy stubbornly clung to Tabasa, clutching his coat, shaking his head.

  
"You're not well, Russell."  
  
"No."  
  
"Russell..."

 

"He's quite plainly expressed his opinion about it already." Kantera says, "But he does need his rest. So," He holds a finger up, a mischevious glint in his eye, "why don't we do this?"  
  
"Do what?" Tabasa feels a bit apprehensive. For some reason.

 

"We will have Tabasa carry him back and stay with him until he falls asleep."  
  
"Eh? Will that work?"

  
"He doesn't seem to be averse to the idea." The Informant says dryly, studying Russell's expression.

  
"Well...are you sure, Russell?"  
  
A stare and a nod.

 

"Alright then."

 

Russell's lighter than he should be. Tabasa's bags were heavier than he is.  
  
"Ohhh, bridal style. Lucky you, Russell."

  
"He looks at ease already." Kantera interjects. For some reason, Tabasa thinks they might be messing with him.  


"...Okay. I'll take him back then."

 

Tabasa says his goodbyes and walks off.

  
For some reason, he feels an odd sensation.

  
Eyes on the trees. Like eyes on the trees.  
Of course, when he looks, he sees nothing.

  
Russell had already shut his eyes.

 

His grip on Tabasa's coat had grown weak.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

 

It was the end of everything.

  
His dream was spiralling out of control. He couldn't breathe.  
His lungs, his heart, all boxed up in a birthday present.

 

He couldn't breathe.

 

Screeching in his ears. The crackle of fire and screaming.  
Laughter of an old, dying man.

 

He couldn't breathe.

 

The sensation of wind rushing through his body.  
His hands, filled with warmth.

 

Fingers dripping the red of others.

 

"Russell?" A whisper and he finally manages to breathe.  

Tabasa. His coat, his hand through Russell's hair.

 

He peeks up and sees Tabasa's face peer down at him.

This is not reality.

 

Static in his ears, and he sees a bloodied face. Like tears, from Tabasa's dead, doll-like eyes.  
  
Droplets of red in his hair.

 

A voice, raspy, what he imagined Death would sound like.  
  
Ah, his hands too. They're stained with red.

 

 _ **"Ru...SsELl."**_  
  
"Russell."

 

"I don't...want to go to sleep."

 

Flickering. His voice, his image.  
  
Cold blood, warm hands.

 

"I know."  
  
_**"iI cAn't...wAke u...uP."**_

 

 

"It's a bit hard for me too, these days." 

  
_**"wHYy...beCA uS E...oF"** _

 

"Nightmares, you know?"  
  
_**"yOU?"**_

 

Flickering, cold blood, warm hands.  
  
Warm blood, cold hands.

 

"It's okay, Russell."  
  
_**"iLL alWayS...beE he rE."**_

 

"They're just bad dreams."  
  
_**"aaAdnd yoU...can'T escAPe."**_

 

No, he can't.  
  
The room's walls are a glaring red. Wind echoes from somewhere.

 

"Russell?"

  
"Don't leave."

"...I won't."

 

Even as he closes his eyes again, feel himself being pulled out of the dream.  
  
Even then, he can smell the sour scent of cheap beer.

 

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


End file.
